


Severed Strings

by transsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Nick has a forked tongue and it will come in handy, Sam has a lot of trauma, Sam is terrified of Nick because of Lucifer, Trans Sam Winchester, but Nick is a really good guy, so does Nick, they end up helping each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-05-27 02:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15014540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transsam/pseuds/transsam
Summary: An encounter with one of Lucifer’s other vessels opens fresh wounds in Sam’s mind but the unexpected bond between them ends up giving him more than he could ever imagine.





	1. A familiar face

**Author's Note:**

> So my first ever fic. Sam/Nick is a pairing I’ve wanted to explore for a while and I’m pretty excited about my decision to finally give it a go. Due to Nick’s limited characterization in canon I don’t have much to go on when it comes to his character so I’ll add my own take on him. There is not much character development in this first chapter but I’ll get there eventually. (This fic is now betad, hence the update!)

He didn’t tell Dean just how hard these last few months had been, it had been more than just a little. Yet he didn’t want to bother his older brother with it. It wasn’t like this whole Lucifer business wasn’t affecting his brother as well. He hadn’t been through what Sam had with the angel, didn’t know Lucifer like he did, but Dean had Alistair running rampant once so he knew he would understand. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell his brother, Dean had enough to deal with himself, with mom especially. Or perhaps part of him didn’t want to say anything because he knew Lucifer to well, yet nothing that would make his capture easier. It was all useless, unfair, how he hardly held any advantage over the Archangel even after all their time “together” as the angel might say.

It was such a funny thought, that other than a few angels and God himself he was probably the one who knew the fallen angel better than anyone.

The only good thing to take away from Lucifer running rampant and jumping from vessel to vessel, was that at least the Angel didn’t pursue him anymore. Perhaps it was a bit selfish, but knowing that he was probably the only person that could hold the fallen angel permanently. He’d given the Devil a clear message a while ago: he would never let Lucifer possess him again. Since then the angel had given up on him.

So perhaps he did have one advantage over Lucifer, his only one. He wished it made him feel less afraid knowing he actually had something, anything to hold against the person who once took everything from him. But no, even that didn’t give him power, because now Lucifer had burned through perhaps a dozen vessels not pursuing him, and in a way he was responsible for that to.

They hadn’t heard anything about the angel since he jumped out of Vince. And while he felt concern about not knowing he also felt relief. The Angel was the last person in existence that he wanted to see, that he wanted ANYTHING to do with every again. He wasn’t looking forward to the time where they would have to face him again. Honestly stepping outside the bunker now carried such a heaviness to it, he could never relax, not as long as he knew Lucifer was still out there somewhere.

He’s found himself wandering the bunker looking for scraps of knowledge to memorize, anything to keep Lucifer out of his mind.

Pretty hard when the Angel was their main priority, and when he kept hearing about yet another failed possession, the Angel burning yet another human looking for a suitable vessel after Vincent.

_Vince._

Of course Lucifer had decided to possess one of his idols. A good old “fuck you” directed at him, it was no coincidence. Lucifer had been in his head, in the bunker and in his room. He knew him inside out and that was a vulnerability the Angel would always hold over him.

The only thing of comfort as of late was that at least he was free from the visions and The Devil’s whispers in his head, or at least the ones sent by the Devil himself. His mind would still conjure up nightmares and hallucinations echoes of his broken soul but it was nothing compared to how it’d been before. But with Lucifer back and roaming the earth his mind had been in a fragile state, unknown to Dean and Cas, but at least he had it under control.

Rowena and Crowley had taken the main task of looking for him. Part of him wanted to be out there with them, but another part, the part he felt the most ashamed of, wanted to never take another step outside the bunker as long as Lucifer walked the Earth.

The thing was, in the end it was all his fault. He could have put all the blame on Cas if he wanted, but truth be told if he hadn’t held such naive faith, if he he’d realized Lucifer’s deception none of this would have happened. So now every death, ever burned out vessel Lucifer jumped to, it was all on his hands. If only he hadn’t been so desperate to be chosen for once-

“From the looks of it, Lucifer have been laying low, he might have found a vessel that can sustain him for a bit longer.”

It didn’t came to him that he’d almost completely dissociated the entire time since Cas came back with news, it wasn’t until the angel stood by his table and the mention of Lucifer that he’s was able to focus, his head snapping up from his computer almost instinctively.

“So do you have any good news for us, Cas?” Dean pressed from where he was sitting next to Sam.

“I have some clues, but more importantly I’ve found one of Lucifer’s other vessels.” Cas turned to his brother with a look of annoyance.

“What vessel?” Sam’s own voice sounding distant and hollow as he turned on his chair.

“The one he used during the Apocalypse, he’s worn and I have not sensed Lucifer’s presence near him. But if Lucifer runs out of new vessels, and he will, he will likely be his first target. Not many people can hold Lucifer without spontaneously combusting on entry.”

He remembered that man. It was the very man that had haunted his dreams for the last six years. The face which followed him out of the Cage until the angel before him took him away and healed his living visions of Lucifer. He didn’t even know the true man’s name. And until now he thought it for the best.

The possibility of another actual vessel like himself being alive hadn’t really struck him, but from what he learned after Lucifer’s current vessel jumping, was that not all vessels were equal. This man must have been a strong one to be able to hold Lucifer for months, unlike the other vessels they had come across who could barely contain Lucifer for more than perhaps a few weeks.

“What do you want to do?” Sam asked.

Castiel sighed deeply, looking from the older brother and landing on the younger.

“I don’t know, for now we need to keep him away from Lucifer, but he’s vulnerable, it would be safest to kill him . ”

"What-no!” Sam’s protest was immediate, he rushed up from his chair eyes glared at the angel in front of him

“Cas got a point , Sam. The stronger the vessel ,) the harder it will be to gank that son of a bitch, isn’t it better to keep him weak? Who knows what he’ll manage once he finds a stronger vessel again”

“Are you serious, Dean!? No! We can’t just kill the man!” Sam protested.

“So what do you wanna do? Invite the guy in, get a bunk mate and hold a slumber party with him?”

Sam winced at Dean’s words, stiffening in his place as his heart felt like it stopped for a second, stomach turning in on itself.

**Bunk mate**

_Stay calm_

“We’ll figure something out, ok? But we can’t just kill him.” Sam went over to slam his laptop shut. “Look, I’ll find the guy, bring him here. There is a better solution to this.”

“Sam, I have yet to find out what state this man is in, he could be insane, or even brain dead. Maybe it really would be better if I-”

“-I said can handle this, you two can follow up on the clues.” Sam insisted, interrupting the angel.

Honestly, he had no idea, bringing the man down to the bunker however was a start. He could figure out what to do next after that. The man had been possessed longer than he had, even longer than Cas, so perhaps he knew something, perhaps he knew Lucifer better. Or perhaps not.

Sam remembered them telling him about Raphael’s broken and discarded vessel, sitting there staring into space being hand - fed, brain turned into mush. Perhaps this was the faith that became of Nick, nothing more than an empty discarded vessel… But if not… If not he had to meet him.

All he knew was that he couldn’t just sit there while everyone else looked for a way to stop Lucifer. And he couldn’t just leave this man to be possessed by the Devil again.

“You sure?” The slight concern in Dean’s voice did not go unnoticed to him, so he avoided looking into his older brother’s eyes. If he were to turn to look at him Dean would give him *that* face, the face he always made when he really wanted to protest his brother’s decision but knew better not to. Dean was concerned and Sam knew why and it didn’t make him feel better, because his brother still didn’t truly know and it was in moment like this Sam told himself that he would never tell him. The concern his brother already held for him was a burden enough, it would be selfish to lay more on him.  

“Yes, it’s fine.”

“Okay . ” Dean replied.

Oh , how Sam hated that voice sometimes, the pitiful voice his brother sometimes gave him, he wasn’t a child, he wasn’t broken. He might be in more distress than he let out but the way Dean kept looking at him lately felt almost degrading.  He knew his older brother could see through him sometimes and it made him feel vulnerable. His ‘Okay’ was that of a parent deciding it was safe enough, but still sending him away with concern in the back his head. It was was the same look, same answer Dean gave him when they were hunting and decided to split up. Dean would look him over and brainstorm, figuring out if it was safe enough for him, if he trusted him enough. And if he did he’d get that answer, that “okay”. He couldn’t stand it right now.

Just go, Dean, I’ll be fine. Let me do this, I need to do this.

This decision had come to abruptly. He needed his head-space, he needed to think. Maybe on the road he could figure out just what to do now. So he would meet one of Lucifer’s other vessels, specifically the one he used during his failed Apocalypse, the one that still haunted his dreams.

As he left the secure confinement of the bunker, it dawned on him just how much of an affect it all had. If he could just… be braver, if only it all didn’t affect him so much. He felt like a rabbit out of it’s hole, all of? of his senses on the constant watch for an eagle to snatch him up. And in his case that Eagle was Lucifer.

Perhaps the one good thing that came out of all of this, was the fact that beyond his fear of the Devil, nothing could really compare. If there were Monsters or Demons waiting for him in the dark, what could they do? He’s been through worse.

——–

His wrist watch turned to five past four when he arrived at the institution. The purple, pink; and orange Tulips planted early in the gray April weather in a seemingly poor attempt at making the old building more welcoming. Perhaps it was just that he had a bias against this sort of place, having been in one more than a single occasion but they didn’t give him a feeling of being welcome. The reception hall wasn’t all that much better, a single vase of yellow flowers on a table with magazines, and a single picture frame with a motive he couldn’t make out on one of the walls was the only thing that lit up the stark room.

Then again in such a high security institution, the security would have been more of a priority than the homely feel, as proven by the bars over the glass of every door, and the odd guard patrolling though along the nurses.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in such a place before, even without his own personal history of such a place, the fake reception as an FBI officer went as smooth as ever, and a small nurse came to lead him to the halls. She was a middle aged woman, short and round, wearing a simple white nurse’s uniform. Dark brown hair tied neatly in a knot,   and warm smile lifting up her round pink cheeks.

“I’m assuming you’re here for Drake Stein’s trail?”

“No, I’m here for Nick, Nick Sheridan . ” Trying to go for casual, he flicked his eyes to her badge, noting the name “Cindy Allans” written just above her nurse position.

He’d read every file available on the FBI database, though they were vague. Apparently Nick had naturally taken most of the the blame for Lucifer’s actions during his attempted Apocalypse, making him an alleged mass murderer in the eyes of the FBI. Particularly for his actions in Carthage. Honestly, it was a wonder the man had escape him and his brother’s attention until now, being so infamous. However, with everything that had kept happening since; Leviathans, The Trails, Amara, and now Lucifer running rampant again, even this must have escaped him. It wasn’t like he was one to watch the news.

Her eyes widened, caught of guard  "Old Nick? What does the FBI want with that poor bastard now, his case were closed years ago.“

"It’s classified, but let’s just say something came up again.” Sam replied dismissively.

“Alright alright, I won’t pry. We got FBI coming to check up with these guys all the time, Nick is a bit of an oddity thought, even here . ” She motioned for him to follow her through a set of stairs leading to the second floor. There was an equal row of doors in the corridor, each with a set of numbers, and each with a lock. Part of him hated how eerily familiar this scene was. The memories of his days in the institution never really forgotten no matter how much he tried. The place was to bleak, the hallways empty and colorless with not even a small picture frame for decoration, or anything to give the place an illusion of hospitality.

“I assumed you read his files,” She continued. “It’s strange though, he’s an awfully kind man most of the time, and not the kind you’d expect from people locked in here. A bit of a stern fella at times, but nice, no one here quite like him. And I’ve worked here most my life.”

The door was at the very end of the hall, just where the large double doors to the corridor ended, with a wide set of stairs behind them, and the door firmly shut and closed to anyone not permitted. And Sam would have laughed at the door to Nick’s room being number 66, if he weren’t so anxious he felt like throwing up.

She knocked on the door three times, not even waiting for a reply, before creaking the door open, peeking inside.

“Nick, you have a visitor.”

———–

Sam sucked in a shaky breath, he tried to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest, tried to keep his legs from shaking, and ignore his mind screaming at him to bolt the room when those far to familiar pair of dull blue eyes looked him over. One, two, three, heavy breaths in, and he managed to fight his own primal fear.

Glancing around the room before settling himself on the chair opposite the man, he noticed that there was hardly anything in the room that stood out from the rest. A dull picture frame of a beach hung on the otherwise naked wall opposite to the window. A small door leading to the bathroom, just by the foot of a plain white sheet bed built in metal frames. There was no carpet on the floor, and the only other furniture besides the table and chair, was a small dresser. But there was nothing on it, not one thing that would otherwise have been expected from a man in a ward. No picture frame of a family member, of friends, no vase of flowers, not even a small notebook. Nothing.

“He’s not dangerous, but if there is anything, cameras are always on during the day and and the guards will come.”

Sam gave her a quick nod, and the moment she left the room, his eyes finally fell on the man sitting at the bed.

“Do I… know you?”

Sam’s shoulders locked in a tense stance at the voice. It was to recognizable to him, he’d prepared himself for it, yet the sound of it caught him of guard, like a sudden rumbling thunder. He remembered the real thunder of Lucifer’s true voice, like a choir of a thousand voices singing in a broken tune. He shivered, trying to ground himself again, to focus, but one thought led to another.

There was always the chance that this was all one of Lucifer’s tricks. That the man in front of him was, in fact, no longer the man called Nick Sheridan, but the Devil. But Lucifer had given up on pursuing him, for all Sam knew Satan just wanted him dead, and out of the way now. He was nothing to the angel, after that he’d made it clear he would never allow himself to be possessed again. It would make no sense for Lucifer to trick him like this, or at least that, was what the rational part of him kept telling him.

Sam tightened his lips into a straight line, there was no easy way to answer that question. Did he know the man before him? How conscious had he been during his possession? Did he remember his face? He didn’t really know this man, only his face, his voice, and his eyes. But he didn’t truly know him did he? Not at all.

The man was staring at him, his face white with the scars left from Lucifer’s burning through him. It took a moment to realize he might have spaced out for half a minute, and a slight heat crept up his face, no doubt making him blush. He glanced down at the man’s hands, held together by a pair of cuffs. They were pale and scarred just like the man’s face. Large and rugged and for a while, became Sam’s point of focus.

“Yeah, uh-” He cleared his throat. “We’ve met… kind of.”

He wasn’t expecting himself to be this calm all of a sudden. Perhaps it was the fact that once he dared to meet the man’s eyes he saw nothing of what he expected. He didn’t really see the devil he expected to see, instead a large part of him just saw an older man with a worn and scarred face, looking up at him with nothing but confusion and curiosity.

Sam rubbed his palm as the man studied his face, he seemed almost lost in thought before averting his gaze for a bit. He’d gotten too used to those pale blue eyes on him, even now he still felt his muscles tense, and his heart rate increasing. While the large part of him might see the man in front of him for who he was, the other part of him wanted to turn on his heels and bolt out of the room. Not that running ever helped, not with Lucifer. But this wasn’t Lucifer, and he needed to focus.

“My name is Sam Winchester, does that ring any bells?”

The man simply shook his head as his eyes studied him, with more intent as if trying to place him. “I don’t think so, no . ”

Sam avoided his eyes, focusing instead on his own hands as he stroke them nervously against his black dress pants, ending up gripping the top of his own knees. If the man didn’t remember him, there was no reason to tell the truth yet, not until he knew more.

“Well I’m FBI and we would like to take a look at your case. Your doctors tells me you’re suffering from religious delusions. I haven’t read your files yet, and I would prefer if you told me yourself how you feel, and what you-”

“Was, was suffering from religious delusions” The other man interrupted him abruptly, head turning to the window on the right of him when Sam’s eyes finally landed on him again. “I was suffering from religious delusions but not anymore.”

“Alright.” The air in the room suddenly a bit tense now, Sam scratched at his neck while trying to find his next words.

He used to be good at this most of the time, a convincing lie, and fake badge, and smile. He could pretend to be someone else in the most professional manner, but something in the man’s eyes seem to stare right through his impression when he turned his face back to him. He wore the face of someone who had been through this before, and he probably had. If being branded a serial killer the amount pesky journalists would bother him to no end trying to have any chance to speak with him, even if it meant breaking the law to do so. But in Sam’s case the lie was a bit more complicated.

“You’re not FBI, and you’re certainly not another shrink. Why are you here?” And there went his cover. Sam’s eyes flicked to the door and back to the man, he was alone, and if this man decided to tell on him, getting him out would be a lot more difficult. And him being caught here like this, might bring unwanted attention to the wrong people or even monsters. He no doubt the remaining angles would love to dissect one of Lucifer’s other vessels, or for the Demons to perhaps gift-wrap the man for their master. Hell, Crowley would probably want the man burned alive in order to limit Lucifer’s vessels, and the same went for the British Men of Letters. He wouldn’t let any of that happen.

“Alright…” Sam sucked in a deep, shaky breath. “You’re right I’m not FBI, but I’m not some Journalist here to bother you either or anything like that, you have to trust me . ”

Nick’s eyes skimmed over him again, in what looked like an attempt to see through him again. After a short pause he sat back against the bed again with a slight frown. “Then what do you want?”

“First, just tell me what you remember, of the time you said you were possessed.”

The man sighed, and that that moment Lucif- no, Nick’s face looked older than ever. He looked tired, worn out, the white scars on his face moved with his frown. His left hand and fingers raking through his unkempt blonde spikes.

“I really don’t remember much. Only flashes. But I know I killed a lot of people, they told me and I think- I think I remember some of it.  I’m-, I was very unstable, dangerous.”

“What did you do?” The details of the Apocalypse was blurred for Sam as well. He remembered parts, but much of that event was still unknown to him and Dean to this day, what Lucifer had been doing all those months while searching for him, what his Demon army were up to. Did Nick remember some of it? From his own experiences the very thought sent shivers down his spine. He’d only been possessed a little more than a day, and the memories of Lucifer’s embrace… His voice, his own hands slaughtering people he once thought were his friends. To have more than day of that… He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy.

“You know the massacre in Carthage? The mass deaths there?”

Sam nodded. He wished he didn’t.

“I was part of that. I don’t really remember anything but I- well, no one knows how it really happened. Only that it did, and that I played the main part.” The man squeezed his own bound hands between his knees as he bowed his head away. “But I hardly remember anything, I wasn’t myself. I only remember glimpses.”

“And what about your version of the story? The doctors say the Devil made you do it.” Sam pressed.

“Look… I know I’m crazy, I don’t want to make excuses anymore.” Nick clenched his jaw as he turned to look at him again. “I don’t know what this is, and what you want, but I’ve been through this already. I know what I did, even if I don’t remember, so why don’t you tell me who you are and what the hell you want with me.”

“Right, I’m-, sorry.” Sam breathed as guilt filled him. He shouldn’t have probed the other man like that, he knew better. “Look…” Sam leant forward in his chair, trying to capture the other man’s eyes with his own, a sincere apology in his voice. “I know what you’ve been through. I’ve-, I’ve been there too. And I know this is going to sound crazy, but I’m a person who knows about these kind of things, I hunt monsters. Demons included, and I believe your story.”

“You’re saying you believe that I was possessed by Satan?”

“I do.” Sam nodded. It sounded ridiculous coming out of his mouth, and so was this whole situation if he was being honest with himself. Nick looked up with a hopeful look, looking years younger than his age. That expression was short lasting, however, as the man’s smile soon dropped and he eyes him with a worried look.

“Why?”

He’d come to the point he wished he could avoid all along, wished he could just grab the man and be out of the cursed place as soon as possible. The environment… It was too familiar. The white wall, the simple room. The lock on the door. The man in front of him. He’s seen it all before. He’d hope he didn’t have to go back there, yet the circumstances didn’t give him much choice.

“He was cold wasn’t he? You were always cold during that time.” The cold grace of Lucifer was something that had stayed with him all this time, he was pretty sure it had tainted him, after how many times Lucifer had forced it into him. If the person he was before his possession only knew how the cold physical presence of Lucifer was, nothing compared to being embraced by his cold grace. He had drowned in it, he was sure Nick would have felt the same.

Nick’s face seem to freeze up at that, Sam could see the man’s adam’s apple bobbing. He continued.

“I know how possession works… at times it feels like you are viewing things as if your own body is a puppet, your own voice speaking, but it’s not you. Even your own thought get blurred as if you think you were him. You would have felt everything he did just like he did yours. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“I’m….” The man seem to grind his teeth before replying. “You come in here so suddenly, knowing about these things knowing about how I felt…” Nick shook his head. “How am I supposed to believe any of this? It isn’t funny, you know, after all that time convincing me I’m delusional to play my feeling like that. You need to give me more than that, how do I know you’re not some new shrink looking to dig away in my brain again?”

Sam released a shaky breath. This wasn’t working the way he’d hoped. Really, he just wanted to take the man and get out of this cursed place, the walls were to low and the room to small, the door behind him might be open, but he felt trapped, trapped with the man he only knew as the Devil. Like so many of the “games” Lucifer used to play with him.

It was all too much, sitting in a cell like place with the Devil, thinking he was finally out until finally he would remember one thing at a time, until the veil Lucifer had placed would finally slip away, and he found himself face to face in that iron box facing Lucifer.

“Look, I’m not a psychologist, I’m not anything like that. I want to get you out of here.” His own voice almost a whisper.

“Get me out.. I-.. Why?” Nick gaped.

“I’m…. I can’t explain everything to you now, but I need you to believe me here. All those things you’ve been through, just look at me and think, you’ve seen me before, when you were possessed, even though I might have changed. I saw you when you were possessed, when you dug that hole at Carthage and killed those people. Think about the last thing you remember when you were possessed? Did you see me? Did you wake up on that floor in that abandoned house in Detroit?”

At that Nick’s whole body seemed to twitch, or perhaps shudder, Sam couldn’t quite tell. He hadn’t taken his eyes off him, tongue slipping out to lick his lips.

“I remember that coldness leaving me, I remember his presence gone and I- I think I remember you, sort of?… Look, this is all too weird to me… Really, what do you want?”

Sam tilted forward slightly. Perhaps to it was a defensive stance, perhaps it was to closer relate to Nick, to reach out to him. Right now, he didn’t know how he felt about it all, and his world was spinning. It seemed almost safe to say that everything he said had been enough for now, or he prayed that it had been. He stood up so abruptly his vision swayed slightly. He probably should have had more than a black coffee for breakfast that morning.

“I need you to come with me, because Lucifer is back, and we need to keep you from being possessed again.”

Unless you are Lucifer. But he wasn’t, Sam could tell. Part of him could always tell, and that was how he grounded himself in that moment. Even with Cas, something had seemed off, he should have noticed sooner just exactly what, but he’d been in too much denial willing to believe that Lucifer was gone. He was wrong, he was always wrong.

“So you can get me out of here? Truly?” Something in the old man’s face seemed to almost lit up at that, a sort of childish kind of hope.

His younger self would have laughed at the situation he found himself in. In a ward, with a man who was the devil’s worn vessel being on charges of first degree murder he technically didn’t commit, having every resource handy on how to get him out. Looks like he would be freeing another “devil” again.


	2. A small briefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gives Nick short explanation of what's going on.

Sleeping over at dirty motel with another of the Devil’s vessel, wouldn't be his first choice. But he couldn't exactly drive from Michigan to in one night,with no sleep without being a danger to the public. And if he actually managed to damage Baby, Dean would kill him, bring him back to life,and then kill him all over again.

“This is a bit chap for a FBI agent isn’t it.” Nick didn’t look all to pleased with his new surroundings, and it wasn’t like this would be Sam’s first pick had he found anything else along the road, but this rundown place seemed to be the only half decent place for miles. It was either this or sleeping in the car, and he was more than a little uncomfortable sleeping so tight with a stranger, especially this man.

“Well I’m not really a FBI agent.” Sam laughed tensely. He turned to see Nick simply give him a shrug heavily implying ‘I guess that’s true’, quickly finding the couch placed by an old and cracked up retro TV, sighing as he sank into it and began rubbing his brows, the weight creaking underneath him.

“Now that it’s just the two of us, maybe you can actually tell me some what this is all about. I mean I did just tag along with a total stranger who offered to sneak a suspected mass murderer out of his institution. So I think I earned an explanation.” Nick’s tone was light and jesty, shielding a clear unease, he wasn’t looking directly at Sam, fingers adjusting his wedding band nervously.

Sam gave a breathy laugh, not because what the other man said was funny, but because of how ridiculous it all sounded. If his 23 year old self had known he’d end up here he wouldn't have believed himself.

But here he was. Well past 30, posing as an FBI agent while sneaking a man previously possessed by Lucifer out of prison. No less after having been possessed himself. He’d be lying if he said this was the life he planned for himself.

“You know it’s all gonna sound really crazy right?” Or more crazy than anything he told the poor guy back at the institution. Sam took a seat on the other side of the couch, as far away from Nick as he could, who was sitting with his arm over the couch arm staring at him.

“Well I’m used to crazy, kinda been in the middle of it for the last six years.”

A strange surge of guilt washed over him, it seemed almost cruel for him to tell Nick about all of this, to start to involve him in everything. He knew that the alternative of being institutionalized like that, to have your experiences invalidated, and told that you’re insane wasn’t all that much better… but if he could be convinced that the Devil wasn’t real, that everything Lucifer had done to him was all in his head… he might have take it over the reality of it all. But that was his feelings, not Nick’s.

“I mean, you kinda just dragged me away from a locked institution and expected me to just play along. It’s not that I’m not grateful or don’t believe you but this is all a bit much you know?”

“You’re right I’m sorry I just-...” Sam shook his head, giving a long exhale. Honestly he could barely do this, he couldn't concentrate with Nick so close, convincing himself of the fact that he was safe, that it was not Lucifer he had taken along for a ride, and now sharing a room with, that it was not the Devil he had snatched from that place.

“So what do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with your version of what happened after the Devil jumped out of me, because my details are a little hazy to say the least . ”

That wasn’t exactly and easy subject to talk about for him, but he owed Nick that much. Sitting there, trying to find his words made him feel yet another strange feeling of guilt wash over him. After all the years after the apocalypse, he hardly ever left a thought to Nick.

Back when Lucifer possessed him, and he took the swan dive into the cage with him, he was a little more than busy. But after... after he got his soul back and… He had so many opportunities to sit back and think about what happened, what happened to Nick.

Sure, the world seemed very keen on trying to end yet again, after all he and Dean had done to try and keep it all together, but there were plenty of times where they weren’t trying to save or fix the world yet again. Why had he never given Nick any thought? He should have.

It wasn’t like he was Lucifer’s only victim. Nick had suffered too. The scarred and exhausted looking man staring at him right now were only where he was right now thanks to the Archangel. Even Cas had been his victim now. Along with countless of other bystanders.

“I am Lucifer’s true vessel, he spent a large part of his time possessing you looking for me, I’m the only one who can hold him permanently and... well in the end he possessed me after leaving you. I guess later you woke up.”

Nick watched him thoughtfully, studying his face again as if trying to find something, making Sam turn his gaze on the old wooden table full of smoke burns beside them, just not able to bring himself to meet those eyes for too long.

“I’m not sure if you were aware at the time but, there was a lot going on. With the world, I mean. Lucifer wanted to bring on the apocalypse... sort of, he was destined to fight his older brother; Michael. That fight would have brought on the final stage of the Apocalypse... I-, me and my brother... we stopped them. I opened the cage Lucifer was kept in.” He swallowed, his mouth drying as he spoke. “And I jumped in with him.”

Honestly, every time he tried to put the events into words, it sounded like some ridiculous Angelic, Heaven & Hell soap opera, as Dean might have described it. Had the event not scarred him so, it was almost laughable, so were most of the world ending events that had happened since. He hated it, hated all of it, but it was all so unbelievably ridiculous at times, the world seemed so determined to end one way or another. But the part with Lucifer, the Apocalypse... that was too real to him even now, no amount of perspective could even put a little ridicule on that event, not for him.

“Wait, are you saying you let the Devil in and won? You got back control?”

“I did. Believe me it wasn’t easy, but I did.”

For a moment, he thought he caught something in Nick’s expression, was it guilt? The dim ceiling lamp wasn’t helping him make out much of it. Not that he’d ever been too good at reading people, his own faith often clouded his judgment of people.

“So why are we here, why is he around walking the earth again?”

“That’s-” A long story to say the least, not really one he felt like spending all night talking about. And frankly, the whole issue with the Darkness, Chuck, and most of all Lucifer being out and about these last months... he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

He’d hardly even mentioned it to Dean and Cas... he still had problems even looking at him. And then it was him... he was the reason Lucifer got out again in the first place, if he hadn’t been so blinded by his faith. He didn’t want to explain that to Nick yet, as selfish as it was. He couldn't make the man hate him just yet.

“It’s-...complicated but, we needed his help to stop something even worse... I refused while... my friend offered to be his vessel. We-we should get to that another time, ok? I promise I’ll fill you up on everything, it’s... a lot.”

His decision to meet with Lucifer had been the reason for this whole situation, everything that happened since the Mark was because of him, one way or another. He prayed that Nick would keep his demands for a further explanation of that for another day.

“And now he’s out again, and there is no apocalypse going on?”

“He lost most of his army then and after he was locked up again... things changed. A Demon named Crowley took over the throne of hell and got rid of most of his loyalists... one way or another.” Sam explained.

Nick gave a big sigh, as he leaned back into the couch, raking his fingers through his graying dirty blonde locks.

“I know how it all sounds-”

“Crazy . ” Nick finished for him.

“Yeah.” Sam bit his lip in unease. If the other made just decided to up and leave at this point it wouldn't surprise him, and if he did he wasn’t sure if he would even try to stop him.

"Sorry, I'm still trying to come to terms with this whole "the Devil being real" thing first of all." The man rolled his shoulder and let out a shaky breath. "You know, the shrinks used used five years convincing me I was schizophrenic, insane."

"Well you're not, "Nick, everything you experiences was real and that's-”

"-You know that's a lot worse right?" There was a deep bitterness disguised in the old man's sarcastic tone when he interrupted. "I mean... the Apocalypse, Demon army? … How I wished this was a dream and I could just wake up just about now.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“I wished I could remember….But everything from that time is so fragmented, if I remember anything at all, like a nightmare I can’t remember, but somehow know in the back of my head, haunting me throughout the day.”

“Did he ever keep you awake?”

“A few times, most of the time I don’t think it was intentional. He talked to me, sometimes, but…” Nick scratched at his furrowed brows “He didn’t seem to want me to see what he was doing, but sometimes I’d see flashes, but that’s all, it all feels like some horrible nightmare. Eventually it was easy to convince myself that it was all in my head, that I was insane.»

“Look, I understand if this is all too much…” If Nick didn’t want to be dragged into this that was his choice, he wouldn't force him.

“Well... I’m probably more crazy coming with you after everything you said, than I was for believing I was possessed by Satan. But what else am I going to do? Go back to the psych ward? I’ve nothing better to do than to come with you. Besides I have a feeling that if I do, this will all make more sense eventually, right?” Nick gave him a cheeky smirk, one that would have reminded him a little too much of Lucifer if it wasn’t for the uncertainty behind it.

“Right…” Sam wasn’t exactly oozing with confidence at that, but it would make all of it more... real. But he wasn’t sure of that being a good thing exactly. But after everything this man had been through with Lucifer he probably needed that clarity. But Sam’s own life didn’t make a whole lot of «sense» to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than the last, and don't establish much other than the general situation to Nick, but I promise I'll get more into Nick's character in the next chapter. And the eventual Sam/Nick content of this story, but it's gonna be slow built with Nick having the face of Sam's abuser and all.


	3. Not just yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Nick has a little something in common and Sam wonders. 
> 
> (See the end of the chapter for long-ass note about recent developments)

"You live in a bunker? Who the hell are you?"

 

The man looked absolutely gobsmacked and perhaps a bit intrigued, Sam couldn't tell fully, couldn't bring himself to study his face for to long. He saw too much. Too much of Lucifer. Even back in the Impala he had found himself glancing in the front mirror far too often-  He was pretty sure Nick noticed it, after a while the man turned eerily quiet and did nothing but glace at the window next to him with a distant expression.

His hands were buried in his pockets shielding it from the cool, yet damp spring air that seeped into the garage. The air felt almost frozen in here, and fuck , if Sam's muscles didn't almost freeze up when the man walked up right behind him as he unlocked the door. He could have sworn the handle were made of ice when he wrapped slender fingers around it, his whole hand trembling. It wasn't Lucifer behind him, it wasn't the archangel who had tortured him for over a millennia in the cage, it wasn't his grace flowing into the room forcing the temperature to drop.

However that bone chilling heat did not follow them inside and the familiar cool, dry and temperate air of the bunker embraced him as soon as the door shut behind them.

 

"Well, this is cozier than I expected"

 

"It's something alright . "

 

He hung his jacket away, Nick, however, would need a change of attire, still wearing his all white hospital shirt and pants. He really should give him some new clothes, shouldn't he… Some of Dean’s larger shirts and pants might fit the guy, that was if Dean didn’t kill him for borrowing them to him… Sam glanced around the room nervously, thinking of what to do next. Catching the old clock on one o the walls. If his life was anything close to normal, it would be around dinner time now. He wasn’t hungry, or maybe he was but his mind wouldn't register it. But Nick might be, and he should probably force something down anyways, his only form of sustenance since yesterday had been five cups of black coffee and he was getting heartburn.

 

"Do you want... anything to drink? Eat?" Sam asked.

 

"Uh, well.. Do you have any whiskey? Or anything strong will do."

 

Raising his brows Sam turned to dig through the cabinets where he knew Dean had his stash of various liquors sitting. He didn't know what he was expecting from the other man, but honestly drinking right now even for him seemed like a good idea. Maybe then he could lower his blood pressure just a bit, as it seemed to have gone into high gear. 

Nick seemed a little more than out of place there in the bunker. Eyes continuously glancing around the room, even as he took a seat by one of the large tables. When Sam placed the glass next to him, and poured him a half full glass, he noticed the man fidgeting. 

 

"I haven't touched this stuff in years, I suppose it was only a matter of time." Nick downed the glass faster than Sam had ever seen a man do, almost slamming it down in a clumsy movement, making Sam flinch. Poured himself another one, all the way up to the brim this time.

 

"You might wanna go easy on that.."

 

"It’s been a rough two days, I’ve earned it." Nick shrugged. 

 

Sam wasn’t sure he he really wanted to sit down there, right above the other man. But what else could he do? Glancing nervously around he noticed a full plate of pancakes on one of the tables, wrapped in plastic foil, with a little note at the side  _ «Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten since you left, so you better have these  _ \- Dean” 

  
  


"Want some leftovers with that?.» He handed the other man a plate. «My brother made them» Despite his own anxiety he sat down on the chair above Nick, thought not looking directly at him just yet. He needed a moment. 

 

"These are good!" Nick proclaimed after his first few bites.

 

"Right? My brother always had a knack for cooking. I'm not very good myself." Dean had always been the chef, all he could do was whip up a few basic meals. Not that he would make himself starve, but time away from Dean always meant a horrific culinary experience.

 

"I can relate, my wife use to cook all my meals. She wouldn't even let me touch the kitchen in fear of me burning it down" He gave Sam a nod before his next mouthful. "Yes, I really was that terrible."

 

Sam couldn’t help but give a small laugh, no, he wasn't  _ that  _ terrible himself, but he was pretty sure Nick was exaggerating just a bit. Though the thought made the corners of his mouth peak up in a slight smile. Dean had almost said the same about him.

 

“ But I suppose that’s what I get for growing up in the sixties, why bother teaching a boy how to cook right? Not like he’s gonna need it later in life.” Nick shrugged dramatically. 

 

Maybe he shouldn't ask things like that so soon, but the line made Sam wonder. His curiosity taking the better of him, wondering if Nick had anyone waiting for him out there. "Do  _ you _ have any siblings?"

 

"No, I'm an only child" Nick’s eyes looked the other way, suddenly more interested in his plate of food than anything to do with Sam.

 

"Do you have any other family?"

 

Nick seem to tense at his last word, his knuckles tightening around his cup, brows furrowing, making Sam's chest tighten in regret, it was clear he'd hit a sore spot and he was not about to continue rubbing it.

 

“Not anymore”

 

Whatever Sam brought up it clearly hit the wrong heartstrings. He wasn’t about to ask any further, not today. Nick’s hand was trembling trying to hold the cup up to his mouth, a few drops spilled from the corners of his mouth and stained his stubble.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

He wasn’t sure if that apology was accepted or not, as Nick seemed keen on ignoring it. 

 

“Assuming everything you’ve told me so far is true, I should probably tell you my life story but... not today, just not today.” He mumbled, setting the glass aside, hands still trembling.

 

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Sam reassured. “But Lucifer is out there looking for vessels and he... has a way getting to you with these things, you know, things that hurt. So the more I know-”

 

“The better, yeah I know.” Nick finished for him. “I get it...”

 

Sam should probably give Nick something, like true reassurance, he was fumbling around here trying to figure out what to do now. Dean wasn’t back and it worried him, especially given the circumstances. But he was sure he and Castiel wouldn't go up against Lucifer alone if they found a clue... they would be back first. And until then he had to figure out what to do with Nick. Probably show him around the bunker, and give him proof that this was all real.

The best way to do that would really be to get him out in the fields, maybe seek out some demons but... he had no idea how the other man would respond to that. He didn't exactly look his best. His face scarred, his eyes baggy, and his hair graying, and his body looked... broken somehow. It wasn’t just the scars, it was something about the way he walked, his voice, his... stature, the way his hands seem to tremble and his muscles sometimes twitch. He had no idea how much damage Lucifer had done to this man, both mentally and physically.

 

“How are you feeling by the way? I mean after you were possessed, did it...change you?” He didn’t want to call the other man broken, even if the word lingered on his lips. His question was probably a bit too straight forward, but by the time he realized it was already too late to take the words back.

 

“It funny. I assumed for, a while, that everything that happened was because of the drugs. I woke up in that house with the worst abstinence symptoms I ever had, I was coughing up blood. Probably wouldn't be alive if some random woman saw me and drove me to the doctors. But…” Nick’s throat bobbed and his mouth twisted “-There was no traces of any kind of drugs in my system at all.”

 

_ Oh _ . Nick didn’t know about the demon blood, any of it. He didn’t know what Lucifer did to sustain him as a vessel, tainting him. Would it be too cruel to let him know?

 

“Yeah, I took drugs as a young man, you know.” Nick continued. “That stuff really mess you up but this... somehow I knew it wasn’t drugs. This wasn’t some big trip... I’ve killed people, I don’t know how but I know I have blood on my hands.”

 

“Nick... You didn’t do those things.” Sam insisted “ _ He _ did.”

 

"But I agreed to them didn’t I?" Nick finally looked back at him again, but this time with fury. “I agreed to everything when I said yes.”

 

“You wouldn't know what he would do.”

 

“Wouldn't I?” His voice filled with bitterness. “I let Satan possess me out of my own free will, probably should have known how that would end for me, for everyone involved.”

 

"Why did you say yes?" Genuine curiosity this time. Even despite forgetting about Nick, Sam remembered having that question at the back of his mine when trying so to avoid Lucifer himself. He remember thinking about the then nameless man sometimes, what made him do it? Because sometimes he was so close to giving in to the devil himself, he’d been so tired, so tired of the Angels and their damn war, their plan seemed all so unavoidable at times.

 

Nick went dead quiet at his question, his lips closing into a think line, eyes cast down again.

 

“Well, like I said... I won’t tell you my life story today.” He sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Nick returning to SPN wasn't something I anticipated when starting this fic... at all. In fact part of the reason I decided to write this was because I thought it would be interesting for these two to meet, considering it would probably never happen in canon.   
> But I can't say I am very optimistic about Nick being brought back. The show has a terrible track record when it comes to bringing characters back, and I'm afraid what they will do to Nick as a character. And I'm also afraid that they will ignore Sam's Lucifer trauma yet again, despite this being the best... and possible last opportunity for them to have Sam explore and talk about his trauma.   
> My fear is Nick not being the Sam-centric character that he honestly should be. I genuinely don't think his return matters if it's not used as a Sam-centric thing and to explore his past with Lucifer.   
> BUT, I hope that if the worst come to past... I'll at least get some material to work with when it comes to establish Nick's character in my own fics. I will not abandon this one regardless of what happens in canon, and I hope to write some s14 fics with this pairing.   
> This chapter was written before the new season aired. And while I will draw on Nick's character from what we see in the show there will probably be some differences. My Nick was only possessed during s5, so he won't be as disturbed as the Nick we see in s14 for one.   
> I also just wrote a s14x1 coda with Sam and Nick, so y'all should check it out.


	4. Premonition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if he is not a true vessel, Nick wonders if he might just be a reflection of the Devil.

When Nick was six years old he had a nightmare, or rather the same one, over and over. Children had plenty of nightmares like that, most easily forgotten after the years had gone by. But he could never forgot this one, because some nights they still came back.  
He was alone, in the dark. Sometimes a cave with no opening, sometimes some kind of box, other times it was a huge endless nothing, or a deep hole where he had no hopes of climbing out of. And each time he’d wake up knowing he was truly all alone. That he would waste away in the cold and dark until he was no more.  
It had been a constant fear throughout his life. He hated being alone, he hated solitude. He remember seeking out friends each day, scared of playing alone, clinging to his mother mothers legs. Always insisting his s-  
No don’t think of her. He always blocked out those thoughts, buried them deep down. After everything he needed to forget her and move on, just like with everyone else.  
But the fear of being alone, abandoned and locked away always followed him. His life hadn’t been too kind to him with that. Perhaps the dreams had been premonitions, perhaps he was psychic, because abandonment and loneliness seemed to follow him no matter. First his mother, then his father and his family, his friends, his son, his wife. He’d always end up alone and isolated, But it couldn't compare the the chilling feeling of possession, to being trapped in your own mind with no one to help you, no one to care what happened to you.  
And now thoughts about that dream came back to him. What Sam had told him about Lucifer... how he had been locked up like that, alone, then maybe... maybe he was more like him than he thought, maybe he was meant for Lucifer…

But Sam had called himself his «true» vessel, whatever that meant, so it couldn't be in the way Sam must have been meant for him... But that dream. Had it been an omen? Some kind of connection to the devil or just a cruel coincidence? Because the cage Sam talked about, it haunted him ever since Sam mentioned it, although briefly. He didn’t seem very eager to talk about it, whatever kind of prison it was. No wonder, a prison for the Devil himself? He was sure there could be no worse place to be, and Sam had jumped in with him. He didn't remember too much of Lucifer's cruelty, but what he did remember was enough to grasp some of its horror.   
He wanted to ask Sam more about it, how Lucifer got out in the first place, how Sam manage to take control, how he got out but Lucifer didn’t... until now. It all seemed so insane, but he knew, he knew it had to be the truth, somehow. But Sam was holding back, for his sake or his own, maybe both. Nick couldn't blame him, from the way he looked at him Nick could tell Sam was terrified of him. He didn’t remember why but he had a few guesses.  
He hardly remember anything from his time being possessed, what Lucifer had done. These past few years had all been a blur, like he was more a walking corpse than anything. But something happened while and after he was possessed that made Sam scared to death by him.

Still Sam treated him with kindness. Sam gave Nick a room, the one across the hall from him. Most likely to keep a better eye on him, not that Nick really minded all that much or took it as any kind of insult. It was more comfortable than his room back at the hospital, that was for sure, and while lacking in personal character it was certainly more welcoming than he was used to. He missed the view of a window thought.  
The first 2 days had been quiet, it was clear Sam didn’t feel comfortable around him, understandably so probably, not that he remembered why that was himself, but he didn’t want to pry. He didn’t really feel like telling Sam how painfully obvious his discomfort was ether, it might make things for him a bit awkward but for Sam it was likely a whole other story, one he hoped to hear some day.  
At least Sam had given him some proper insight to things now, just the kind of things that were out there. It put more perspective to his own situation, his own fragmented memories of things.  
Thought, finding out that werewolves , demons and witches were real didn’t exactly help him overcome his fear from his Catholic upbringing. Nether did the devil being around walking the earth, or him being unable to hide himself from said devil, thus why he was here in the first place. The existential dread of knowing the demons his father made him fear being real? Not a comforting thought.   
Back from what little he could remember of the night he was possessed it hadn’t been as frightening, the Devil didn’t seem so evil. He’d felt comforting somewhat by the cool aura coming from him, by the image of Sara, by his words. He wasn't sure what to believe.

But still... now with his fragmented memories, his cryptic nightmares, the flashes of blood and despair, the memory of the taste of iron in his mouth... He was scared, he’d been scared ever since he woke up in that abandoned building. At first he thought he was just scared of himself, what he’d done, what he’d lost and if he could ever be forgiven. Now thought, he was scared of the Devil, of everything. He almost wished he could go back to living in ignorance, rotting back at the hospital.... but he wanted answers, a big part of him wanted to know everything,all the things Sam still hesitated to tell him and if possible... even look the devil in the face, demand some answers from him. He just wanted to know why, why him?   
How had it been for Sam he wondered, who seem to have truly seen the evils of what Lucifer had done, who… Nick was sure had experienced that cruelty first hand. He tried to ask the second day, about what really happened at Carthage, about the things Lucifer had done, but Sam seemed hesitant to tell him more than what he already knew.

 

“You’re gonna have to tell me more at some point, Sam” Nick said one night when they were seated by the big war table. This time Dean was there too, and he gave him a look, *the* look, as if he wanted to strangle him. It was a look he’d gotten used to by now. While Dean didn’t seem as intimidated by him as Sam was, he had made it clear since day one that he wasn’t exactly comfortable with his presence in the bunker. Although the older brother had kept his distance and left him to Sam's care. Yet it was very clear that the man didn't want him near the other Winchester.

There had still been no clues as to Lucifer whereabouts which only seemed to agitate the situation. Nick had no doubt suspicion that he could be possessed was still playing at the back of both the brother’s heads. He had wondered that too sometimes, fearing that the devil never left him, but no, he was gone, had been for a very long time now. If he had still been around he wouldn't have felt so... empty.

“No, he doesn't” The older Winchester spat before Sam even had time to open his mouth.

“Dean-”

"I still don't know what's going through my brother's head bringing you here. But I can tell you what, if it were up to just me, you wouldn't be."

_Yeah, you've made that pretty clear, Deano._ Nick knew better than to say those words out loud however.

“And you wanna know why I don’t like having you here?"

“Dean!-”

His brother cut him off again.

“You wanna know why Sam is so afraid of you?” Nick didn’t answer, but he had some ideas.

“After Death snatched my brother’s Soul from Lucifer's Cage, do you know what happened to him, what kept him up at night?”

He hardly had the time to shake his head before the older brother kept going.

“You did.Your face. For months, MONTHS I had to lay awake listening to my brother scream at night, remembering what Lucifer did to him in the cage, wearing your face”

“Dean-”

“No, come on Sammy this is stupid! Seriously, what good could come from bringing him here?"

"Look Dean, and if you don't wanna deal with him you don't have to, I'll take care of it."

"Will you? Because I just don't get your eagerness to help a man who's haunted you dreams for years. It's not good for you Sammy."

"Because it's the right thing to do Dean!-"  
"Ok fine, you wanna babysit this guy, do it, but don't try to involve me in this." Dean threw Nick a dirty glare before storming out of room. A tense silence followed as Nick tried to find his words again.

“I didn’t know Sam, I’m sorry” He did know thought, not the details but he knew that. Even without this… sense of knowing that might have been an after effect of his possession, it didn’t take a genius to see that something like that might have happened.

“It’s ok, Dean is just… it’s fine, really.”

He wanted to do something, put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, tell him thank you, say it was ok, that he wouldn't hurt him but none of those things seemed appropriate right now.

“It’s not fine Sam, you know that.”

  
None of this was fine. If one thing was for certain, it was that Sam wanted anything but him there. So why even bother?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike canon, I like the idea of this version of Nick handling the death of his family and Lucifer possession a lot better than s14 Nick does. The main difference being that he was never possessed as long as canon Nick, and that he had a lot of years to think and to come to terms with the loss of his family, as well as having less time for Lucifer to corrupt him. I hope to make him a lot more sympathetic than canon in this. 
> 
> **Sorry if the conversation at the end of this chapter seem a bit rushed or badly written, I have been really struggling to finish this chapter for months. Hopefully I'll do better going forward.


End file.
